The Pirate and the Lawman
by Evil Cosmic Triplets
Summary: A new trouble emerges in Haven, and Audrey's got her hands full. Nathan's not sure what happened to him and Duke. He just hopes that, in the morning, he'll still be able to feel Duke - icy cold toes and all. kid!fic (pre-slash)


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of this work of fiction, and no profit, monetary or otherwise, is being made through the writing of this.

**A/N:** Much thanks to animegirl1129 for all of her encouragement (as well as the inspiration) to write this. For my trope bingo (round three) square: kidfic, and just mostly for fun and because I enjoy the show.

* * *

Nathan can't sleep. It's dark, and he's cold, and there's a monster under the bed. He can _hear_ it breathing.

"Dad," he calls out hesitantly. His voice is much too soft to travel far.

"Nathan?" a woman's voice answers, and Nathan draws the covers up over his head.

He doesn't recognize her voice. Doesn't recognize the bed – it's bigger, the sheets softer, and there's no Bubub.

Bubub – his fierce, stuffed bear – would be able to protect Nathan from the monster, from the woman whose voice he doesn't recognize. Bubub would also have been able to chase away the terrible nightmare that had woken Nathan.

But Bubub's not here, and Nathan's voice is too soft for his father to hear him. The dark is too dark, and there's a monster lurking under Nathan's bed, waiting to eat him.

"Nathan, it's Audrey," the woman says. "You're alright. Everything's going to be just fine."

"I want my Dad," Nathan says.

He doesn't like the way his lower lip trembles. He's not a baby, but it's dark, and he's sacred, and Bubub is missing. He needs his Dad, because his Dad has a way of making everything alright.

There's a sigh, and the bed dips. Nathan holds his breath and his heart beats faster than it does when he's running. He burrows further under the unfamiliar blankets, and tries not to make a sound, even though he wants to shout for his father.

"I know, Nathan," the woman says. "I'm sorry; your Dad can't come right now. Do you know who I am? "

Too scared to speak, Nathan shakes his head. His eyes are starting to burn, but he doesn't want to cry. The woman, whoever she is, sounds nice and he bets that she's pretty too. He doesn't want her to think he's a baby.

"Well, you might not remember right now, and that's okay, but we're really good friends. Partners even," Audrey says, and Nathan tries not to flinch when he feels a hand pat him on the leg.

He's struck with the sudden realization that something is very wrong with being able to feel the woman's, Audrey's, hand on his leg. It doesn't feel bad, but it doesn't _feel _right either. He squirms under the touch, trying to understand why it seems so strange.

"Are you alright, Nathan?" Audrey asks. She sounds concerned and Nathan's heart slams hard against his ribs.

He nods, because his mouth feels like its got peanut butter stuck in it. His voice is stuck, and his leg feels warm where Audrey's is touching it through the blanket.

"A...Audrey?" a small, timid voice calls out.

Nathan thinks that maybe he should know whose voice it is, but he can't remember the other little boy's name. The only thing he is certain of is that it's a little boy, maybe his age, who's talking.

"Duke, I thought I told you to wait in the other room." Audrey's voice doesn't sound mad, though it does sound tired, and Nathan wishes that he had the courage to push his blankets back so he could see what she looks like.

Sniffles and the sound of shuffling feet are the only response that Audrey gets from Duke. The bed dips again, just a little, and then there's something heavy sitting on Nathan's feet. It's almost enough to draw him from his cocoon, but Nathan isn't sure he wants to meet the other little boy that he thinks he should know, but doesn't, just yet.

"What's that lump?" Duke sounds equal parts scared and curious, and Nathan's breath gets pushed out of him in an, oomph, when Duke pokes him, hard, in the stomach.

"Duke, stop that," Audrey chastises when Duke keeps pushing his hands into Nathan's stomach. "That lump is Nathan. He's a little boy, like you."

"Oh." Duke stops pressing his hands against Nathan's stomach, but he doesn't move off of Nathan's feet. "Is he my good friend too?"

"Yes, Nathan and you are very good friends. I just don't think that you've met each other yet," Audrey says.

"How can we be friends if we haven't met each other yet?" Duke voices the very question that Nathan's thinking.

Nathan shoves the blankets down just enough for him to peek over the edge of them. He can see the little boy sitting on his feet. His shoulders are thin, and he's got a thick mass of dark, messy hair. Duke's skin is darker than Nathan's, like he spends a lot of time in the sun, though it's hard to tell much else about the boy in the dimly lit room.

"It's a long story," Audrey says. "One that is best saved for morning."

Duke yawns and rubs at his eyes. "But I'm not tired."

Nathan giggles at the obvious lie, and claps a hand over his mouth as Duke turns to look at him. Crawling up Nathan's body to take a closer look, Duke peels back the blankets and looks down at Nathan's face.

"Hi, my name's Duke." He holds a hand out to Nathan, and Nathan, more than just a little perturbed by Duke's boldness frowns up at the other boy.

"Hey, I thought you said we were friends." Duke turns to look at Audrey, a frown marring his features.

"You are, Nathan's just a little shy," Audrey explains.

Part of Nathan swells with pride at having Audrey stand up for him with Duke, but part of him feels ashamed that a girl stuck up for him. The conflicting emotions make him feel uncomfortable, and he squirms beneath the sheets, beneath Duke, who's still sitting on him.

"Get off me."

Nathan shoves at the other boy, trying to unseat Duke. It's not that he can't breathe, or that he's completely uncomfortable, so much as he feels trapped. It's not a feeling that he likes.

Instead of moving, though, Duke firmly plants himself on top of Nathan and straddles Nathan's chest. When Nathan pushes at him, Duke pushes back, and before he really understands what's happening, they're wrestling.

"Duke! Nathan! That's enough!"

Audrey pulls Duke off of Nathan, though his fingers are entwined in Nathan's hair, and Nathan can feel some of it rip free as Duke struggles in Audrey's arms. It hurts, and Nathan strikes out blindly, feeling a warm blossom of vindictive glee when his fist meets with flesh. His victory is short lived when it's Audrey's, not Duke's, voice that cries out in pain.

Nathan scurries, quick as a rabbit, beneath the covers, trying to hide himself. He can't believe it. He hit a girl. Boys weren't supposed to hit girls. It isn't right, and Nathan's heart feels like it was going to beat right out of his chest. He skin feels like it's on fire.

"I didn't mean it," he says, voice strained, and tears close to the surface.

Nathan's trembling and cold and he feels sick to his stomach. What would his father say? Hitting a girl is an awful, terrible thing to do. It doesn't matter that Nathan hadn't meant to do it, that he'd only reacted on instinct to the pain of having his hair torn out by Duke. The only thing that matters is that he'd hit a girl, a girl who'd been nice to him – Audrey.

"Nathan, Nathan, it's okay," Audrey's voice breaks through to him, and when it does, Nathan realizes that he's no longer beneath the safety of his blankets, but gathered up in the warm, comforting arms of the very woman he'd hit.

"I'm sorry," Duke's voice is muffled, and Nathan can just make out a tuft of dark hair peeking out from beneath Audrey's other arm – the arm not holding him.

"Boys, really, it's okay," Audrey says; her voice more than just a little exasperated. "Trust me, I've had worse."

The thought that Audrey's been hit before makes Nathan's heart swell with anger, and he can feel his cheeks grow hot. He brushes at his wayward tears and maneuvers so that he can look into Audrey's face. He can see the horrible truth of that statement mirrored in her eyes, and it makes his stomach twist into knots. He feels an intense desire to protect her – keep her safe from everyone, himself and Duke included.

Audrey hushes him, and rubs his back, and it feels nice. It even feels nice when Duke snakes an arm around him, in a loose kind of hug, and they sit there – all three of them hugging, the two boys half-sprawled across Audrey's lap.

"Now, I think you'll both agree that we've had enough excitement for one night?" Audrey raises an eyebrow and looks at each of them in turn.

Duke nods soberly, tucking a thumb into his mouth as he snuggles closer into Audrey's warmth, his fingers lightly caressing the silky material of her shirt. Nathan's eyelids feel heavy, and he can hear the steady tha-thump of Audrey's heartbeat beneath his ear. He feels safe, and though he wonders where his Dad is, and why he can't come for him – probably working the late shift – he is no longer scared.

"Yes, ma'am," Nathan says, remembering – at the last minute – to be polite.

Duke snorts, and Nathan feels like punching the other boy, but one look at Audrey's face – she reminds Nathan of an angel – has him reconsidering that. Audrey had said that he and Duke were friends, and though it's hard for him to believe that, Nathan feels like he can trust her, so he settles against Audrey's side, and lets his fingertips roam over the soft fabric of her blouse. It's comforting, and he stifles a yawn with the back of his other hand, rubs at his eyes.

"Alright, you two," Audrey says. "I think it's time for bed."

"Don' wanna sleep on the couch," Duke mumbles around the base of his thumb. He's pouting, his lower lip trembling.

Audrey sighs, and narrows her eyes at the two of them. Nathan feels like he's being sifted and weighed, and he feels slightly uncomfortable, and then she gets a look in her eyes – a glint – that makes him feel like his skin is crawling, and he just knows that he's not going to like what she's going to say next.

"You and Nathan can share the same bed tonight," she says, and the way she says it makes Nathan's heart sink.

It's a done deal. He knows that, and he casts a furtive glance in Duke's direction. The other boy is scowling, and he presses against Audrey's side, as though he's just as unhappy about the whole idea as Nathan is.

Nathan takes a deep breath, and he squares his shoulders. If he's going to have to share the bed with this Duke boy, then he's going to make Audrey, and his father, wherever he is, proud of him for how he handles this situation.

"It's only for one night," Audrey says, though, to Nathan, she doesn't sound too convinced of that.

"Where are you gonna sleep?" Duke asks.

He's bunching the fabric of the coverlet in his fist and looking up at Audrey through the fringe of his disheveled, black hair. Nathan wonders why the other boy is acting so shy now.

Audrey ruffles Duke's hair, and a spike of burning heat stabs Nathan in the gut. He crosses his arms over his chest and watches Audrey and Duke out of the corner of his eye, back stiff as a board and chin held high. He wishes he had Bubub to help ease some of the burning in his tummy.

"I'll be just fine sleeping on the couch tonight," Audrey says. "It's just over there, see?"

She points toward a far corner of the room. Nathan turns his head and follows the curve of her shoulder down to the long plane of her arm, and out to the tip of her finger, squinting enough so that he can just make out the dark shape of the couch. It seems like it's miles away, but Nathan knows that it's just his mind playing tricks on him because of the darkness of the room. That's what his father would tell him – if his father was there.

"Alright, you two; time for bed." Audrey holds a corner of the bedding up for Duke who, after peeking at Nathan through the thick fringe of his bangs, quickly scrambles underneath the covers.

Duke's feet brush against Nathan's calves, making him shiver because they feel like he's being touched by feet-shaped ice cubes. Nathan scoots over, giving Duke as wide a berth as he can without completely relinquishing the pillow. He might not have any choice about sharing a bed with the other boy, but he does have a choice with how close he and Duke have to be while sharing the bed. Surely Miss Audrey and his father wouldn't begrudge him that small bit of personal space.

"I don' have cooties," Duke says around the thumb in his mouth, but he settles on his side of the pillow, his back to Nathan.

Nathan bites his tongue to keep from calling Duke a baby for sucking his thumb. Sucking thumbs is not something that six year olds are supposed to do, and Nathan wonders what his father would say if he started sucking his thumb.

He turns his back on Duke, grips his edge of the pillow tightly, and closes his eyes. He tries to pretend that he's home, in his own bed, that he's not sharing his bed with Duke, and that the plump, softness of his pillow is really Bubub's furry paw.

Duke rolls over onto his back, and then onto his side. The other boy's restlessness is more than just a little disturbing and Nathan wonders if Duke will ever settle down, or if he'll spend the night tossing and turning.

"Your feet are cold," Nathan mumbles when Duke's toes stray toward his side of the bed, touching him just behind his knees. Most of his voice lost in the pillowcase.

He tries to shove Duke's feet away from him by kicking backward, but Duke simply pushes back, and his claw like toes seem to dig into Nathan's calves.

"You're warm," Duke says, as though it's the most sensible thing in the world for his toes to be siphoning warmth from Nathan.

"Boys!" Audrey's tired voice rings out in the small room, and, reluctantly, Nathan stops trying to dislodge Duke's icicle-toes from where they've sandwiched themselves between his calves.

Audrey sighs, and Nathan can feel the tips of her fingers brush hair from his forehead. It's a light, almost not-there touch, and he wishes that it was something more – like when she'd held him earlier.

"I know that it's been a long, hard day," Audrey says.

Nathan tries to remember the day, frowns when the only thing that he can remember is waking up after a nightmare about Reverend Driscoll. He shudders, and scrunches his eyes tightly closed to get rid of the scary pictures stuck in his head.

"And that you probably don't remember most of it," she adds, and Nathan wonders if Audrey can read minds.

Duke's breath hitches, and Nathan can feel the other boy's body press tight against his own, like Nathan is Duke's own personal Bubub. Something keeps him from shoving Duke away.

Instead, when Duke places an arm over his shoulder, Nathan settles back against him, because right now, even though he feels like he can trust Audrey – like, even though he doesn't remember knowing her, he does – he's still scared, and the nightmare which had driven him from sleep is lurking just behind his eyelids, waiting for him should he fall asleep again.

"I don' 'member nuffin'," Duke mumbles, his breath tickles the hairs on the back of Nathan's neck.

"I'm sorry, honey," Audrey says, and Nathan can feel the bed shift under her weight as she comforts Duke.

"I promise, I'll explain everything in the morning…when everything's back to normal," she says the last part under her breath, like Nathan's father sometimes does when he doesn't want Nathan to hear what he's saying.

"I want my Dad," Nathan whispers, gripping Duke's hand tightly with his own. His throat feels tight, and he suddenly feels too hot. His nose and eyes feel scratchy.

"Shh…" Audrey soothes, and she runs her fingers through Nathan's hair.

Duke's fingers curl around Nathan's, and the other boy tucks his head beside Nathan's on the pillow. His breath ghosts across the back of Nathan's neck, warming him while Duke's still chilly toes are leeching heat from him. It isn't entirely unpleasant, but Nathan's not sure how to feel about it. It's a new sensation, and it makes his stomach feel like its got twisting knots in it – the kinds of knots that he sees the fishermen use on the docks.

"How about if I tell you a story?" Audrey asks, her fingers stilling momentarily before resuming their rhythmic stroking of Nathan's hair.

The soothing sensation reminds Nathan of something, but he can't quite remember what, and his eyes start to close. He fights sleep as hard as he can. In part because he doesn't want the feeling of Audrey's fingers in his hair, Duke's warm breath on the back of his neck to end, and in part because all that he can picture when his eyelids start to slip closed is the Rev's angry face looming in front of him, hand upraised, ready to hurt him though he won't be able to feel it, because Nathan can't feel anything.

Except, he_ can_ feel Audrey, and Duke, and it doesn't make sense that the Reverend should tell him that he can't feel anything when he can– that it's not natural, that there's something wrong with Nathan. But there's nothing wrong with him. He can feel Audrey's fingers and Duke's icy toes and the pillow beneath his head.

Nathan doesn't want to sleep, and he wonders what happened to the monster under the bed. If it's still there. He thinks that, if, maybe he can stay up just a little longer, his father will come and take him home, and get rid of the monster before it can get him and Duke and Audrey, who's fingers feel so nice in his hair.

"What kinda story?" Duke asks, the moist warm touch of his breath on the back of Nathan's neck as he breathes out helps keep away the Rev's face and mean words.

"A story about two little boys, who became the best of friends, though they like to pretend that they aren't friends," Audrey says. Nathan can tell she's smiling – he can hear it in her voice.

"How come they pretend they aren't friends?" Nathan wonders aloud.

It makes about as much sense to him as the Reverend being mad at him because Nathan can't feel anything, especially when Nathan can feel the back of Audrey's hand brush against his cheek, and Duke's hand squeeze his fingers. It's silly.

"Yeah, how come?" Duke asks. He sounds equally puzzled, and his grip on Nathan tightens.

"Oh, I don't know," Audrey's voice is softer and there's something almost teasing in the tone. "Maybe because they're afraid of what others will think."

"But…that's silly," Nathan says.

"Yeah," Duke agrees, nodding –his hair tickling the back of Nathan's neck.

"Yes, it is silly," Audrey says, and she laughs. She settles back against the headboard, one hand on Nathan's head, and the other on Duke's. "But these two boys don't seem to realize how silly they are."

"Do they go on 'ventures?" Duke asks – hot breath skittering across Nathan's collarbone, cold toes wriggling between Nathan's calves.

"Oh, yes, they go on lots of adventures," Audrey says. "One of them is a…pirate, and the other is a lawman – "

"Like my Dad?" Nathan interrupts, and his cheeks grow warm when Audrey chuckles, and brushes her knuckles against his cheek.

"Just like your Dad," Audrey says.

"Wha's the pirate like?" Duke's voice has an excited edge to it. He squeezes Nathan's hand.

"He's dark and handsome, and he likes to tease the lawman," Audrey says.

"How come?"

Nathan is trying to picture the lawman and the pirate in his mind and for some reason, the pirate looks a lot like Duke, except older, and he's got a patch covering one eye, a parrot clinging to his shoulder. The lawman looks exactly like Nathan's Dad, and he's got a scowl on his face as he scolds the pirate for something.

"Because the lawman's too strict," Duke supplies, his lips brushing against the collar of Nathan's shirt as he speaks.

"No he's not," Nathan defends, and he attempts to move closer to the edge of the bed, but Duke's fingers and toes are like the suction cups on the bottom of a starfish, and Nathan is stuck.

"An', anyways, the pirate's too…too…he's a scowndrell." Nathan's bottom lip is trembling, he's so mad.

Nathan's heard his father use that word before, and even though he has no idea what it means, he's almost certain that it's a word that can be applied to the pirate who teases the lawman.

"The lawman's a scowndrell too," Duke growls, and his body stiffens, his frozen toes dig almost painfully into Nathan's calves.

"He's not," Nathan says, and he shoves an elbow into Duke's gut, smiling when he feels the warm whoosh of air on the back of his neck. "Lawmen aren't scowndrells, only pirateses are."

"Not this pirate," Duke insists, and he knees Nathan in the back.

"Boys! Who's telling the story here?" Audrey's voice cracks like thunder, and both Nathan and Duke hold their breath.

"Sorry, Miss Audrey," Nathan says – his ears ringing with the silence that had followed Audrey's reprimand.

Audrey sighs. "It's okay, Nathan. As a matter-of-fact, you two kind of remind me of the pirate and the lawman."

"Really?" Duke's awed voice is whisper-soft, and as he relaxes, so does Nathan.

"Yes, really," Audrey's voice is light again, and she launches into a harrowing tale about how the pirate and the lawman go on a big adventure to save a girl who was lost and scared.

At first, though, they don't get along at all, and if they don't set aside their differences, and learn to work together, the poor, frightened girl will be lost to them forever, and, she's important to both of them.

For awhile, Nathan's afraid that the two will never learn to work together, that the girl will be forgotten, but Audrey assures him, and Duke, that the pirate and the lawman remember the importance of their friendship and that they find the girl and rescue her, but not before they battle with monsters that suck people straight up into the sky.

Nathan's eyelids grow heavy as Audrey speaks – _the pirate and the lawman are fighting side-by-side, they can hear the girl now, and they just have to make it through a hoard of hungry monsters._

Duke's head is heavy against his shoulder, his hand lax in Nathan's. His toes, no longer icicles, are still nestled between Nathan's calves.

It's comfortable.

Safe.

And Nathan knows that the monsters – both under the bed, and in the story that Audrey is telling him – don't have a chance against the three of them – him, Duke and Audrey. Together, they're unstoppable.

Nathan falls asleep just as the pirate and the lawman reach the girl who, in his mind, looks a lot like what he thinks Audrey looks like – dimpled smile, pretty blue eyes (like a cloudless sky), and blonde hair that makes Nathan think of honey and silk.

Her cheeks are a rosy red, and Nathan knows that he's sleeping, because he's dreaming, and in his dream, he's not six. He's old, like his Dad.

Duke isn't little either – he's big as dream Nathan. His smile's big and wide – lips stretched taut across white teeth that gleam in the sunlight that glints off the ocean. He's a pirate, complete with sword and a bandana, and Nathan's wearing a badge, a gun in a holster at his waist.

Audrey's lips are quirked upward in a knowing smile, and Nathan's brows scrunch in confusion, but he turns away, focuses on Duke who's watching him and Audrey.

It feels like he's stuck in a vat of molasses.

Time's slowed down to single, telegraphed movements: Duke's smile falters, turns into something that harbors an emotion that Nathan thinks might be more than just friendship; his eyes grow wide, hands spread – the long fingers splayed as he takes a single step toward Nathan.

Gone are the telltale signs of a pirate – the patch, the parrot, the golden hoop earring. They're replaced, in the blink of his mind's eye, by dark jeans which detail hard muscles contained within the too-tight fabric.

A loose fitting shirt the color of a sunset, takes the place of the billowy shirt that the pirate from Audrey's story had worn. It hides the muscles that Nathan knows, without touching, are there.

Nathan's experienced those muscles before. They've given him bloodied noses, and black eyes he never had the pleasure of experiencing the pain of. He'd wanted the pain, needed it, and had been robbed of it.

Nathan sleeps. He dreams.

Mouths meet.

Lips and teeth gnash.

Hands; fingers that grip and pull and tug.

And, through it all, he can feel.

The ice of cold feet pressed between his own warm ones. Breath, coming out in warm, even puffs on the back of his neck, tickling the tiny hairs there.

Long, slender fingers gripping his own tightly, an arm – solid muscle – wrapped around his shoulder. His back, pressed flush against a hard chest – Adonis chiseled in stone – hearting beating in time to Nathan's.

He can feel.

It's the most wonderful sensation in the world, and Nathan doesn't want to wake.

"Nathan?" Audrey's voice sounds like it's coming from the other side of town and Nathan tries to ignore it.

He turns his head away when she calls his name again. Waves her off with a hand, returns to the place where he can feel Duke – tanned skin smooth, warm, and pliant beneath Nathan's mouth and fingers and hands and tongue.

He can still feel Duke's hair, soft and coarse at the same time – just like the man himself – rub against his cheek. Nestles into that soft warmth, ignores the siren call of morning, the cold toes that threaten to steal sleep and heat and comfort from him.

"C'mon, Nathan; Duke," Audrey's voice is insistent, closer, and Nathan can sense that his time's nearly up.

It's slipping from him, just like the sands of time.

He doesn't want it to be over yet. Doesn't want this dream to end if it means that he loses this warmth and safety and simply _feeling. _

Doesn't want to wake, because if he does, he loses everything that matters.

Loses Duke.

"C'mon boys, it's time to wake up." Audrey's breath is tickling his ear, and that does nothing to ease Nathan's mind, because he remembers.

Remembers that he can feel Audrey, even though he can't feel anything, or anyone else. _Duke._

Remembers that something funky happened yesterday afternoon when Duke, Audrey and he went to check out a missing person's case.

Remembers arguing with Duke.

Remembers the gypsy woman with a thick accent, and a gold coin that dangled from a chain and sparkled in the sun.

Remembers the dizziness, and being weightless, and then…nothing, until waking in a strange bed, calling out for his Dad after having a nightmare about the Rev.

Remembers Duke's toes – miniature ice cubes – so cold that they burned the backs of his calves.

Remembers, and wants to forget, because, if he's got to go back to not feeling, Nathan doesn't want to know what it felt like to have Duke's lips, hot, on his own – tongues vying for control, breathless – even if it was all just in a dream.

Doesn't want to be without the feel of Duke, now that he knows what it could be like. Nathan wants to keep this. Wants to keep Duke – warm breath, constricting arms, cold toes and all.

"Nathan?" Duke's voice, sleep-slurred, resonates in Nathan's ear, makes his toes curl in response. "Wha – "

Before the curse, the trouble that he knows is responsible for him and Duke winding up in bed together – as kids, and waking as adults – ends, Nathan turns his mouth toward Duke's, and kisses the other man, pours everything he has into the kiss. Feels Duke's fingers dig into the small of his back as he rocks his hips, and it's like he's been struck with lighting.

This is nothing like Audrey's kiss felt.

It feels like electricity's running through his veins, and Nathan doesn't want to pull apart from Duke, not even to breathe.

Because now that he's gotten a taste of what it's like to _feel _Duke, he realizes that it isn't enough.

It'll never be enough.

And if Nathan has to stay lip-locked to Duke for the rest of his life to keep this, he will.

"Whoa, easy there, lawman." Duke's voice is hoarse, scratchy, breathless, when finally he manages to push Nathan away, just far enough so that he can take a breath.

Though he doesn't want to, Nathan opens his eyes.

His gut churns with the knowledge of the great loss that will accompany his full waking.

Nathan wants this to last – the state of half-wakefulness where he can still feel Duke's hands, fingers massaging the small of his back, calloused from years of working on a boat, and his toes, still freakishly cold where they touch Nathan's shins.

When he dares to look, he sees that Duke's eyes are half-lidded. A black swatch of unruly hair sweeps across them and almost hides the unmistakable spark of lust which smolders in the obsidian depths.

Duke's lips – slightly parted – are pink and swollen with the memory of Nathan's mouth, his teeth nip-tugging.

He looks every bit the pirate that Audrey had fashioned him to be in her story.

Debauched.

Dark skin kissed by the sun.

"Scoundrel," Nathan breathes out, wraps his hand around the back of Duke's neck; draws him close enough to sneak another kiss, pushes his knee between Duke's so that their limbs are twined together.

Nathan wants to feel every inch of Duke – wants to hold this in his memory for as long as he can, because, when this – whatever _this _is – is over, memory is all that he'll have left of Duke.

No one knows when the troubles will leave Haven.

Nathan doesn't know when he'll be able to have this experience – Duke grinding against him, lips-tongue-teeth, mouth wet and inviting – again.

He tells himself that he's got to quit while he can still feel – that he's got to catalogue every second of this – even as he grabs a fistful of Duke's hair and deepens the kiss.

"Maybe I should…ah…go take a walk," Audrey says; her voice loud in the small space. "Give you two a little space."

Nathan wants to tell her to stay.

Wants to say something.

Anything.

But his lips, still numb, don't want to move.

"Maybe bring back some breakfast?"

Audrey sounds further away, like her hand's already on the door handle, and she's ready to make her escape.

When Nathan manages to tear his eyes away from Duke (half fearful that he's going to stop feeling the other man if he isn't looking at him), he sees that Audrey's watching them.

Her eyes are bright.

Her smile, genuine.

Her back's to the door, one hand on the knob, twisting, the other's pressed to her chest.

"I could eat," Duke says matter-of-factly, almost lazily, never taking his eyes off of Nathan. "Pancakes…lots of syrup."

"You got it," Audrey says. "I'll, uh, take my time?"

Duke shrugs, wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, and casts Audrey a wolfish grin. Nathan's heart jumps to his throat, and his stomach fills with butterflies, much as it did when he was a teenager.

"Give us an hour," Duke says, his fingers brushing along Nathan's collarbone, eliciting goose bumps, and the dumb awareness that he can still feel Duke's touch, even though, by all accounts, he shouldn't feel anything now that the trouble which had turned him and Duke into six-year-olds has been reversed.

When Nathan groans, back arching in response to Duke's strategically-placed, calloused thumb, Duke, mouth latched to one of Nathan's nipples, much as it was to the very thumb that he's using to toy with Nathan, says, "Better make that two."

Audrey's response – if there is one – is lost to Nathan in the deaf-blindness that accompanies the feel of Duke's hands, lips, and tongue, working him into a melting, gibbering mess. Nathan's nerves are on fire, tingling. The very air around him and Duke seems electrified, and he can't get enough.

Nathan's throat aches. His lips feel numb – bereft – when Duke pulls away, says, "Hold on; just a sec." He rolls over, pins Nathan to the bed, and grins down at him.

Nathan's heart thunders in his chest when, even though he's now fully awake – fully aware – he can feel Duke shift on the bed, the weight of the other man's body draped across him, the soft press of lips to his forehead when Duke kisses him. The man's lips trail down from Nathan's forehead, to the bridge of his nose, to the tip, to Nathan's mouth.

It isn't until they've broken the kiss – lungs burning – that it hits Nathan.

He's awake, and he can still feel Duke, cold-as-fuck toes and all.

"I can feel you," Nathan says, his voice filled with awe.

Duke grins, lifts an eyebrow sarcastically. "I, uh, hadn't noticed."

Duke laughs, presses the tips of his fingers into the back of Nathan's neck, and leans in to steal another kiss. It's slow and lazy, and Duke tastes like the sea – salt and some unnamable spice. It's heady, and Nathan thinks that, maybe, if things go back to 'normal,' he'll be content with merely tasting Duke, though, really he'd rather give up tasting altogether if it meant he could feel Duke.

They move together, unhurried as a Sunday afternoon. Every nerve ending feels alive – Nathan's on fire – and Duke really is a master in bed. He's had more experience than Nathan, though not from lack of want on Nathan's part – it's hard to get his body to function the way he wants it to without his nerves firing properly.

When they're finally together – Duke straddling his hips, fingers twined together; grunting, panting; Nathan's forehead resting on the very pillow he'd earlier tried to escape from the younger version of Duke with – the pleasure-pain-pleasure of making love like this for the first time sends Nathan over the edge.

Heart-pounding right out of his chest, Nathan sees stars – fuck, whole galaxies – and then there's just Duke, and Duke's gentle and thorough, and fuck, fuck, fuck Nathan never wants this to end.

Eventually, they fall apart – sticky and slick with sweat and other things that Nathan just doesn't want to think about right now – and lie side-by-side, panting and regaining their bearings.

"That was…" Nathan doesn't have words for it.

"Yeah," Duke says. "It was."

They fall into a light doze, wake to kiss, and Nathan's delighted that the Duke!feels haven't dried up.

The sound of a cough, the pointed clearing of a throat, acts like a bucket of cold water, and they both pull away simultaneously, sucking in air as though they're newborn babies breathing for the first time. Neither of them had even heard the door open.

Audrey has two large take-out bags in either hand, and she's pointedly not looking at either of them, though Nathan can see that her smile's not forced. That she's okay with this – with him and Duke – makes the butterflies in Nathan's stomach settle.

Nathan's loose as a wet noodle, and he's giddy – drunk on sex and feeling and Duke– and hungry enough to eat a bear.

He knows he's got a goofy smile on his face, but, for the first time in what seems like forever, Nathan's happy, and he can see by the lopsided smile on Duke's face, that the other man is happy too.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you have the time, I'd love a review; they are like cupcakes with icing (except with far less calories).


End file.
